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lil-tachyon · 10 months

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For the last couple weeks I've been drawing logos / designs for local-ish (mostly NJ, some PA and NY) bands as warmups in the morning. Here's what I've come up with! Massive post below the break explaining each logo + where to find each band and listen to their music.

Teenage Halloween- a staple of New Jersey basements for probably about a decade now and finally getting wider recognition in the last couple years. Pop punk / power pop with a killer horn section. First time I saw them was in New Brunswick playing with Walter Etc. and Blowout. They played a killer cover "Build Me Up Buttercup" and my wife got a black eye in the pit. Recommended tracks: "Brain Song," "666," "Clarity." Their first EP is on a separate bandcamp page btw, check it out here it's great.

Sweet Pill - They will call themselves a Philly band but in my heart they'll always be from Glassboro. Definitely one of the more recognizable names on this list. Emo revival - early stuff is more twinkly, more recent stuff is heavier. All of it's great. Recommended tracks "Nephew," "High Hopes."

Shark Club - Central Jersey's finest. I'm very biased because I actually know these dudes and they did the music for my wedding. Some of the best pop punk you'll hear and the nicest people you'll meet. Recommended tracks: "Game Theory," "Bill Murray," "Heavens to Betsy."

Rest Ashore - My favorite band for the last (oh God I'm old now) eight years. From gut-wrenching emo ballads to virtuoso math-rock instrumentals they do it all. One time I got to sing vocals on "Lucy's Theme" at a house show- thank you Erica! Recommended tracks: "Hjarta," "Chinese Opera," "Devotion," "Soyuz Sweetheart." Too many bangers to name honestly, just deep dive their discography.

Morus Alba - First band I ever went to see at a house show and still one of my absolute favorites. Their music feels like the bridge between the best pitchfork, /mu/ alt rock bands and high energy basement emo. I mean that as a compliment and I hope it comes off as one lol. I should note that since 2019 Morus Alba has morphed from a band into an experimental hip-hop project so later releases sound radically different and basically disconnected from the earlier stuff. Also my favorite release from them, Live at Isabelle's, has been scrubbed from the internet but if you'd like the files just email me. Recommended tracks: "Skyscraper," "Human Resources," "The Goodnight Waltz."

Have a Good Season - another Jersey mainstay that's still going strong. Emo revival in their earlier releases, now with more 70s power pop influences in their newer stuff. See them live, they put on a fantastic show and usually play some great covers in addition to their original music. HaGS guys if you're reading this, please put your version of "Since You've Been Gone" online, I'm begging you. Recommended tracks: "Joseph / Shel Silverstein," (you have to listen to them together for the drop, so good) , "Gum, "Gleaux / Scab." Also, frontman Nic Palermo interviewed me once.

Elephant Jake - If you see any of these bands live make it EJ, they put on such a damn good show. Electrifying indie punk from the Empire State. Recommended tracks: "F.D.C." "Sarah Moyer," "Goodness to Honest," and of course you gotta learn "Sebastien Bauer" for the singalongs.

Blind Lion - Sadly one of the greats that we lost along the way. Defunct since about 2017. I only got to see them once but it was a great performance. Alongside their own stuff they played some killer covers of "Bad Moon Rising" and "Moonage Daydream." I had trouble doing a logo design for them because I actually really like the composition, if not the "Ed Hardy-ness," of their existing logo so what you see here are two separate attempts, neither of which feels entirely satisfying to me. Frontperson Larry Flately currently plays in Nematode and also handled production of Bradley Gardens joke hiphop group The Breakfast Boiz under the moniker "DJ Ova EZ." Recommended tracks: "Brumous," "Dinner."

Fighting Seasons - A band that I sadly found out about too late (via a sticker under the bridge in my town which has since been painted over). 2010s pop punk that packs a helluva punch, especially considering that I'm pretty sure the members were high schoolers for most of the band's existence. I think some members may have gone on to form Sawce (FFO Chon, Polyphia, that type of music) but I can't remember where I read/heard that so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Recommended tracks: "Fighting Seasons," "Oil on Canvas"

Milkmen- Another fallen giant, officially disbanded in 2019. Like Morus Alba, they played the very first house show I attended and their few releases remain on constant rotation in my home. Used to put on a great show and were one of the bands I always thought would make it big until suddenly they weren't around anymore. Frontman Ben Thieberger contributed guitar and vocals to Covid quarantine project Kin if you're looking for a bit of an extra fix but beyond that I don't know what these guys are up to these days, sadly. Recommended tracks: "Ramus," "Johnny Dangerously," "how sieves catch breeze," "K.O.T.H."

Stand and Wave - New York (now Philly) pop punkers delivering instant dopamine hits with every track. Another great live act, see them with EJ if you can! They often play shows together. Recommended tracks: "Convos," "Mrs. Dash," "Splashton Kutcher," "Michael Collins."

My Chemical Romance - You know who they are. While I was drawing all these other logos I ran a poll on Patreon to decide which famous New Jersey band should also be graced with a drawing from me. MCR won the poll by a hefty margin so unfortunately you won't get to see me do an illegible black metal take on Hoboken's Yo La Tengo. I ended up doing two versions: the one with the halo is the first, the one with the bats was the second. I tried to do something kind of thin and elegant with the first one and I don't think it's terrible but I also wasn't quite satisfied with it. For the 2nd attempt I tried to lean into the kind of pulpy, almost horror punk aesthetic of early MCR and I think that one looks better even if it's less original.

Anyway if you took the time to read through all this, thank you very much! And please support these bands! Also If any of the links aren't working please let me know.

-Logan

#emo #pop punk #new jersey #band logo #logo design #punk #my chemical romance #mcr #emo revival

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howi99 · 3 months

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The Puppeteer: *fixing someone's arm* I might have given you a stronger body, but that doesn't mean you are invincible. God, i fixed you last week for heaven's sake!

Ex-paper pleaser: I am sorry, i was trying to fix the bridge so you didn't have to.

The Puppeteer: *sigh* I already told you all; i don't mind y'all helping me, but i need to know in advance. *Show his atelier with his hand* What are my tools for? Decoration? Besides, I haven't finished the plan for the northern expansion of the city yet. The bridge can wait a mo-

Marie: *kicking the door open while gesticulating like a madwoman*

The Puppeteer: ... Marie, you'll have to slow down a bit. I may have taught you sign language, but i can't understand if you don't take your time.

Marie: *pointing to the big clock on the wall then at him and finally outside*

The Puppeteer: What? You want me to go eat? But it's barely 14h!

Marie: *facepalm* "The date you fool! It's today!"

The Puppeteer: What? What is to- *looks behind Marie and see a familiar face* Marie dear, didn't think you'd brought a friend home. Had i know, i would have made tea.

Marie: *questioning look* "Friend?" *Look behind her and see an out of breath Neo* "How did that old hag follow me!?"

The Puppeteer: I assume you asked how she followed you by how you are moving your hands? *Look at the patient* You should be fine now, you can go.

Ex-paper pleaser: Alright boss. I shall do that. *Leave*

The Puppeteer: *looking back at Neo* Dear friend, i shall present myself. My current name is the Puppeteer. I welcome you in my humble abode.

Neo: *absolutely not recognizing Jaune since his appearance changed a lot (soon to be commissioned so everyone can see what he looks like)* "That's nice and all, but that kid stole something precious to me. I want it back!"

The Puppeteer: *chuckle* Now, did she? Marie, what did you take from our friend?

Marie: *getting the broken electrolarynx from her pocket* "i saw it was broken and wanted you to help me fix it... I was planning to give it back."

The Puppeteer: Ah, i know what this is! It's been years since i saw one! *Take it from her hands* Hm, the internal circuits seem to have gotten loose. *Look at Neo* Mind if i fix it? As you can see, i'm quite adept at fixing stuff.

Neo: *annoyed* "Fine, but i want it back the second it is finished. I don't want my friend to know i broke his gift."

The Puppeteer: *chuckle* I don't think he would mind, young lady. *Begin the repair*

Marie: *look intensely at Neo*

Neo: *glare back*

Marie: *cheeky smile* "You should really wear less make up. It doesn't hide your wrinkles."

Neo: *cheeky smile back* "Should i talk about your fashion sense? You look like a worse version of me. What, did your grandma choose your clothes for you?"

The Puppeteer: You know, you two might be mute but i still can clearly hear all the gesticulating you both doing. I need to concentrate!

Neo and Marie: *rolls their eyes and crosses their arms*

The Puppeteer: Thank you.

_______

10 min later

The Puppeteer: Done! *Looking at his hands* My age is showing, when i was 20 i would have finished in less than a minute. *Looks behind him and sees Marie and Neo insulting each other with in sign language* They never change. *Clap his hands* Recreation finished kids, you can get your thing Neo.

Neo: *look surprised at the Puppeteer* "How do you know my name?*

The Puppeteer: *chuckle* You really don't recognize me? Come on, *throw lightly the electrolarynx to Neo* you even were so afraid I discovered that you broke my gift. *Smile and remove his mask that hides his face* though i should maybe redo the presentation?

Neo: *take a step back, looking worried*

The Puppeteer: I am known as the Puppeteer around here, but you can call me Jaune. *Looking at the clock* For you it should be maybe 6 hours since we last saw each other. For me? It was the longest 6h of my life.

#jaune arc #rwby #rwby au #jaune is a genius au #oc #neopolitian (rwby)

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mistystepmoonbeam · 1 month

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Reborn into BG3: Chapter 11

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 11: It's time to visit Auntie Ethel and thank her for helping you out with your hand. It's only polite. Hangovers, redcaps and monster hunters won't stop Tav from thanking a kind old lady!

Word count: 4.1K

A/N: The word count really got away from me on this one.

The next morning you can’t remember too many specifics about the night. You have the blurry picture of Karlach laughing, sitting by the water with Wyll, and someone laying in a pool of blood. You shiver at the incomplete memory.

Despite your hangover you’re chosen to go out with Tav, Astarion, and Wyll to go visit Auntie Ethel. No amount of protests are able to keep you at camp, because Tav assured you there was no fighting and you were just going to thank a kind old lady for her help! It’s only polite!

Halsin still had things to clear up at the grove so rather than wait around for him you were volun-told to make the trip. And since you couldn’t say what Auntie Ethel truly is, nor warn them about the Gur bounty hunter…you went along.

As you walk down the hill beside the blighted village you’re expecting to see the hag on the road with Mayrina’s brothers. But they’re not there, and neither is the basket of poison apples.

The illusion of a beautiful sunny land isn’t there, either. Instead you find yourselves in the swamp, the smell of stagnant water and algae strong, as well as blood. It would be easy to miss, you’re not sure how you can tell the scents apart yourself, but it’s there.

“Not quite what I pictured when she said to visit her teahouse,” Wyll says. He’s looking at the dilapidated bridge and debris spread around.

“Seems like a good point to turn around,” Astarion suggests. “I’d prefer not to get my boots wet.”

“It’s just water.” Tav starts moving through the deeper water that flows through the swamp before the broken bridge that leads to the island. Begrudgingly, the vampire follows.

Wyll steps into the water and offers you his hand to help you across. You take it gingerly and step forward, only to be met with solid resistance from what should be liquid. You both look down, your foot atop the water.

You put more weight on it, adding your other leg and letting go of Wyll’s hand. “I guess Gale was right about the enchanted boots.”

Walking on water seems excessive for someone from a city like Baldur’s Gate. But after a couple more careful steps and a few jumps you laughed. For a brief moment your worries and hangover are gone as you hop around on top of the little creek, fascinated by the murky gap between you and the earth. You spin in a circle then quickly steady yourself, dizzy, but also because you notice the three men you’re travelling with are grinning at you.

You clear your throat and cross your arms, heading to dry land. “Sorry, that’s just…cool.”

There’s a certain sparkle in Tav’s eyes that tells you he desperately wants to do the same. You tell him, “I’ve seen your feet, they won’t fit.”

His sparkle fades at the same time his tail dips towards the ground.

“Braaaaagh.”

The sound makes you flinch. On the little island are the redcaps, apparently still thinking they’re disguised as sheep. Two are atop the rocky hill in the middle, while a third wanders near the water. It makes another strange sound that’s supposed to be a “baaaaah”.

Tav approaches it, squats down, and with complete seriousness lets out a loud, “Baaaaah!”

Wyll hides a snicker behind one hand and that’s when you finally notice it. He has horns and a red eye.

“You have horns!” you shout thoughtlessly.

“Well, you were properly thrashed last night, weren’t you?” Astarion questions. “And even this morning? Or are you just blind?”

“I, uh, sorry Wyll…” You’re about to ask when Mizora showed up but think better of it. “What…”

“I wondered why you didn’t ask last night,” Wyll says. There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice, but the sadness over his change is still there. “I was tasked with killing Karlach, and since I haven’t, I’ve paid the price. My patron Mizora…”

You’re given a quick rundown of Mizora visiting him when he was with Lae’zel and Shadowheart.

At the end of his story you ask, “So last night you had…”

You gesture at his face, and maybe the innocence of the question is what makes him smile. “I’m afraid so.”

“I am so sorry,” you repeat. At least you had an excuse for not noticing last night, but you were so used to seeing him in game you didn’t give it a second thought this morning.

“It’s not your fault. It was my decision.”

“No, I mean—well I’m sorry for that, too—but I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I’m so selfish, I was moping over nothing while you were—are—in pain.” You bite down on your thumb nail and try to remember talking to him by the water but it’s so blurry now. Not only were you moping over imaginary problems, he went out of his way to make you feel better when he had very real, life altering things to deal with.

“I appreciate that,” Wyll tells you.

“But—“

Wyll holds up a hand. “I have seen enough to know that you truly didn’t notice. Not because you were too selfish but because you…”

“Because I…?” you ask.

Wyll shifts uncomfortably.

“Because you’re naive,” Astarion says. “And I say this with love, darling, a little—oblivious.”

“Astarion,” Wyll warns.

“I didn’t say dim this time.”

“Astarion!”

“I am not stupid!” you shout. The redcap startles, hollow eyes on you. “I just don’t…I don’t know things about…things.”

You frown. They’re talking about you when you’re not around? You hadn’t considered that. Of course they did—they talked about each other, too, so why not you?

“To clarify,” Tav adds, “only Astarion called your dim.”

“You did jump in front of a loaded crossbow for a goblin.” Astarion arches a brow at you, probably thinking how you had called yourself stupid at the time.

Your frown turns to a pout. You grumble something about moving on from the subject in hopes of never having to discuss it again. You begin to walk around the redcap with a wide gap, eyeing it warily.

“Now you’re afraid of sheep?” Astarion asks.

“No,” you reply. You look at the vampire quizzically. “But that’s clearly not a sheep.”

The men exchange confused glances. You’re very tired of getting those looks.

“It’s a redcap?” you say to them. “Isn’t it? I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re called.”

Wyll studies the redcap—or sheep as he sees it—as it moves towards you. It lets out an awkward sound between a growl and a bray, but when you don’t reply it’s sneer deepens. There’s a shift in the air, a static shock that stretches around the area in what you can only guess is magic.

“Ohhhh, a redcap,” Tav says. He takes two steps forward, pulls his right leg back then thrusts it forward to kick at the creature. His boot connects with its middle and despite the weight of the redcap it soars through the air.

It goes so far you only hear a distant splash of water. Astarion claps at the distance.

The other redcaps are not quite as entertained by Tav’s actions. They screech from the hilltop, one jumping down while the other moves its hands in the air. Roots tangle around yours and Tav’s legs, locking you in place. The one now on your level charges towards you only to be sent flying by a red bolt from Wyll—eldritch blast.

Astarion lazily throws his dagger at the one on the hill and when the blade lands in its eye socket the vines around you shrivel and die. You step out, shaking each leg of any remaining debris.

“So you saw through the illusion,” Wyll states.

You survey the area, that static ring gone. All you can offer is a shrug—you passed the perception check you guess. But you can’t tell them that.

Tav loots the bodies of a small amount of gold and alchemical ingredients while Astarion retrieves his dagger. Wyll offers theories as to how you were able to see the redcaps, but it all comes back to the enchantment on your clothes. Whatever protection they gave you from harm could be linked to the fact you haven’t had to clean them yet—they still appear pristine despite the blood and dirt you’ve lain in. In fact, you haven’t felt the need to even wash the sweat from your skin. Powerful enchantments indeed.

Tav leads the group forward to Auntie Ethel’s house, all of them a little more suspicious of the old woman now that the swamp is no longer disguised. After the elation of walking on water you’d forgotten about the Gur waiting around the corner. As you approach the bottom of the hill he’s waiting on, you grab Astarion’s sleeve between your index finger and thumb. “Maybe we should wait here.”

“What’s wrong?” Wyll asks. You don’t let go of Astarion’s sleeve even when he tries to pull away. You wet your lips, eyes darting between the vampire and the direction of the Gur. Just a few more steps and he’d be able to see you; he can probably already hear you.

You tug on the sleeve again. “Ast—you should stay here.”

He finally yanks out of your grip and smooths the sleeve where you’d been holding. “And why should I do that?”

Because there’s a hunter around the corner looking for you and he might actually recognize you. Because things are slightly different than in the video game I remember in my past life where you’re a character and not a person.

Because I don’t want you to have to remember how you died and that you can’t escape Cazador, not yet anyway.

You can’t find a reasonable answer.

Astarion huffs out a sigh. “Is this one of your weird feelings Karlach was going on about? Am I about to die if I take another step?”

You flinch back. “What? No, I just…what are you talking about?”

“You seem to know when death is coming,” Astarion explains. “The goblin, then Arka—who confessed her suicidal plan in a drunken stupor last night by the way, to her friend right outside my tent. Ugh, I had to send them away just so I could get some sleep.”

You look at Tav and Wyll, the vague image of Arka laying in a pool of blood coming to mind.

Astarion adds, “You sniff out death like a bloodhound.”

“I just have a bad feeling,” you finally mumble.

“It’s okay,” Tav says. “If anything tries to hurt Astarion I’ll take care of it.”

You smile as he gives you a thumbs up, wishing you could believe him invincible.

“Let’s go see if we get to kill something, now,” Astarion says excitedly.

“Perhaps some precaution is in order,” Wyll suggests. “Tav and I will take a look first and signal if it’s safe. Agreed?”

Astarion rolls his eyes but nods. “Don’t have all the fun without me.”

Tav and Wyll move ahead and around the corner. You hear their voices as they speak with the Gur, but can’t make out the words. Then, Tav’s head appears around a rock and he waves you over. He’s smiling at least, which probably means he wasn’t told anything about what the man is hunting.

You keep yourself a step ahead of Astarion as you follow Tav. Once at the top of the hill the Gur hunter nods to you as greeting.

“He’s a monster hunter,” Wyll says to you. Like that is going to somehow comfort you, even if you didn’t know what you know.

Astarion questions what terrible creature he’s hunting and the scene is triggered. You gulp as the Gur says he’s hunting a vampire spawn named Astarion, and you can’t help but notice the look Wyll sends you. It’s a mix of apologetic, confusion, and concern. Concern for you or Astarion, you aren’t sure.

The hunter mentions he needs Astarion alive.

“Well here he is,” Tav says, waving a hand at the vampire beside you. “This is Astarion.”

“What?” You and Astarion shout the word at the same time, gawking at Tav. You step to the left and in front of Astarion.

“What are you doing?” you question.

“Yes,” Astarion agrees, “what in the hells do you think you’re doing?”

“It can’t be…?” the Gur says.

“But he is looking for you,” Tav says innocently. “And he wants you alive.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” you shout. You grip your staff with both hands, ready to hit someone—and that someone might be Tav.

Your fury at the tiefling in that moment almost overshadows the phantom limb as it reaches out into the swamp behind you. Almost. Something…twitches. It’s not you, nor that strange feeling in your head, but something moves. You can feel it, slow at first but getting faster as feet drag through mud. You feel grimy water on your skin, the need to follow orders—your orders. It’s not you feeling this, someone else is, not unlike the connection the tadpole gave you.

The Gur pulls his crossbow from his back and tries to aim at you, or Astarion behind you, but he isn’t given the chance when something launches over your head and onto him. He screams as the creature bites his jugular, blood squirting—squirting!!—from the wound. You shout and jump back only to collide with Astarion. He sets his hands on your arms to balance you, and then pushes you out of the way as he watches the Gur get killed by—

“Didn’t we kill those little things?” Astarion asks, pointing at the redcap that tears into the hunter's body. It’s moved on from his neck, now clawing at his stomach. You watch on, eyes wide and unblinking, breath held in your chest. Another redcap, this one missing an eye, hobbles past you and joins his companion.

“We did,” Wyll confirms.

You’re holding your staff in front of you, still ready to whack someone until the Gur stops struggling. You let out the breath you were holding. When you finally blink you see that the eyes on your staff are glowing a lovely violet.

The redcaps grunt, facing you now that their task is complete. Your eyes dart between the staff and them, and back again. “Please tell me I didn’t do that.”

“I think you may have,” Wyll says. “And it seems you may be a necromancer of some sort; you didn’t even need to utter a word to bring the redcaps here and do your bidding.”

“That,” you say, pointing to the corpse, “is not my bidding.”

But you can’t deny that you feel a string of connection to the redcaps now—puppet strings. Your strings, using them like marionettes. And you can’t deny the way the redcaps watch you like they’re waiting for your next command. You want to drop the staff, but your body won’t listen. Because it has to be the staff, right? It’s cursed or enchanted to let you raise the dead! Finally you let go of the wood and let it fall to the ground with a clatter.

But the redcaps stare on.

“It’s okay.” Wyll tries to comfort you but you’re having none of it.

“No, it’s not okay!” you yell. You point at the body again. “I just killed that guy!”

“And for Astarion, no less,” Tav chimes in. His voice brings you back, somewhat grounding you from your hysteria.

“And you!” You point to the tiefling. He flinches back at your fury, having the gall to look innocent with his wide eyes and tail tucked. “Why did you tell him about Astarion?”

Tav doesn’t get to answer when one of the redcaps launches itself at him. He’s quicker to react than the Gur and grabs it before it can claw or bite out his throat, and uses the momentum to swing around and throw it about as far as he kicked the first one.

You picture a string between you and the redcaps, and then a pair of scissors snipping them away. There’s a moment of hesitation in the remaining redcap, but it soon falls over. Dead, again.

You sniffle, holding back the burning tears that begin to line your lower lashes. “He was going to hurt Astarion.”

Maybe Tav had a plan and that was why he told the truth. Or maybe he just can’t help but be honest, thinking he could bargain with the Gur into leaving Astarion alone. But you can’t wrap your head around it. And rather than focusing on the glowing eyes of the staff, that have now faded, the fact you just killed a man with two undead redcaps, you focus on your anger at Tav. It’s so much easier to be angry than sad.

You step towards him, pull back your foot, and kick him in the shins with all your might. He has leather boots on, and he’s a barbarian, so he probably doesn’t feel it much, but you kick him again.

He hops away on one foot, grabbing at his minor injury. “I’m sorry!”

“He was gonna take Astarion!” you shout. You step towards him only to feel two hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place.

“Perhaps this argument can wait,” Wyll says. He doesn’t let you go when he looks at Astarion. “Why did he want to capture you, not kill you? He said it was a sacred duty from his people—that’s no small task to be given.”

You shrug Wyll off and cross your arms, facing away from Tav. Tears slip down your cheeks as you regain control of your breathing. You rub at your face with one sleeve.

“How should I know?” Astarion asks. He’s putting on a front, you think. “He was most likely sent by my old master, Cazador, to bring me back to Baldur’s Gate.”

They discuss the possibilities—why a Gur was sent, what Cazador would want with him rather than just kill him. You keep your arms crossed, determined to hang onto the anger as fear creeps along the edge of your senses.

“Weren’t we here to thank a little old lady or something?” Astarion questions, hurriedly changing the subject. “Perhaps we should move on, before any more hunters show up?”

You are more than happy to get away from the corpse, but the closer you get to Ethel’s the more your anger ebbs away and is replaced by fear. There are so many things that contribute to that fear, so you hold onto the fury as tightly as possible and refuse to even look Tav in the eye, despite his many attempts at getting your attention. He flits around you, begging you to say anything to him, sic another redcap on him even, but you’ve quickly come to realize that the silent treatment is the best punishment.

That anger takes you all the way to Ethel’s door, where Wyll knocks before entering.

Though the tea house is a little decrepit and sitting in the middle of a swamp, it doesn’t smell like it. There’s a scent of a spicy tea in the air, and when you enter you find Ethel sitting where Mayrina is in game, sipping on a cup.

“Petal!” she says, a smile crossing her features when she sees who’s visiting. “I was worried you might not find the place.”

Ethel stands and approaches the bottom of the stairs, waving the group farther inside. “Come in, come, would you like some tea?”

You do your best to hide the fear that creeps along your spine. In the game Ethel could be a difficult battle, but that was only triggered based on the actions against Mayrina and her brothers. With none of them there you couldn’t predict how things would go.

From the corner of your eye you can see Astarion watching you. He doesn’t stray too far from the group, but he’s never more than a foot away from you. Maybe killing his hunter endeared him to you? You should have gotten a few Astarion Approves from letting him drink your blood alone.

While your eyes had wandered around the tea house Ethel and Tav had begun their conversation. He was also only a foot in front of you, and when you came back into the conversation Ethel was offering her deal.

“That sounds like a poor deal,” Tav says. He thrusts his thumb over his shoulder towards you. “Apparently they can fall out after getting hit in the head hard enough.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Wyll says. He steps a little closer to you. You’re starting to feel claustrophobic with all of them keeping so close to you so you take a step back.

Ethel eyes the men and then you. There’s recognition in her features but it doesn’t feel quite the same as when Raphael had stared you down. “Your god must really love you to get rid of that little wriggler.”

You perk up, maybe too much and give away your eagerness. “My god?”

Wyll casts a warning glance in your direction. Don’t act desperate, it reads. You wet your lips. “How do you know it was my god and it didn’t just die?”

Ethel laughs. “Let’s just say you’ve got a glow about you. You all do. You Chosen.”

The air freezes. Everything slows…slows…stops.

Necromancer.

Chosen.

Control over the dead.

Necromancer-Chosen-dead three-Myrkul-

You whirl on your heel, fall to your knees, and throw up the fruit that had been forced on you earlier. You manage to get it into a nearby basket, but the purge doesn’t stop your stomach from turning. Those words—chosen, dead three, necromancer—keep swirling in your mind. You hiccup and release more into the basket.

You tremble. You’d never thrown up from fear before. Motion sickness, sure, flue, totally. But fear? The shaking doesn’t stop, nor does the urge to keep vomiting. All you can do is sit there on your knees, breathing heavily as the small dot that is your vision spins round and round and round.

Your head starts shaking. “No, I’m not—I’m nothing. Nobody! I don’t matter. I’m—”

You can’t be anyone connected to the main plot. No. You can’t be one of the dead three or a chosen, because you did have a worm in your brain for a while, and you were on the ship and—and—

“Take a breath,” Wyll says. He kneels beside you, hands out and ready to wrap around you but only hovering above your jacket.

“I’m not…”

“Just take a breath,” he repeats. “We don’t know anything for sure.”

He seems so sure, you think. So solid, just like last night at the party. How he can be so certain of anything right now is beyond you, and you know what’s coming.

You do as he instructs, your next few breaths are shaky but calming. You wipe at your mouth with your sleeve, watching as the spittle soaks into the fabric then disappears completely. “I need to—go somewhere. Not be…here.”

You stand quickly, ignoring Tav as he calls to you. You’re on the front porch when you feel something wrap around your ankle and nearly topple you forward. You come to a stop and turn. Tav’s tail is wrapped around your ankle and even when you stop it doesn’t loosen.

“Please, wait.”

You try to take a step forward but his grip is too strong. “I need to go.”

“I’ll go with you.” His tail tightens, desperate to keep you there. It pulls, trying to bring you closer to him even though it’s barely two feet between you.

“I want to be alone.”

“I’ll…I’ll be quiet.” Gods, he’s giving you that look that makes it feel like you just kicked a puppy. As much as you try to stay mad it’s fading into nothing but anxiety and fear, and a desperate desire to let him comfort you. But you need to think, somewhere without distractions and far away from a literal hag. Even if she hasn’t shown her true form.

“Tav,” you begin, pleading just as he is. You look at him. Really look at him. You take in the black scleras that surround the dark blue of his eyes, the beginnings of wrinkles around his mouth from where he’s always smiling, the slight indent of crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. His white-gray hair shifts with the breeze, but his horns stop anything from getting into his eyes. You wish it would cover his eyes–they’re far too teary for the light-hearted man.

Wyll sets a hand on Tav’s shoulder. “Let go, Tav. It’ll be fine.”

The tieflings lips press together, his tail unmoving.

“Tav.” Wyll isn’t making a suggestion. With one last desperate look at you Tav finally releases his hold on your ankle.

You take the steps down into the dirt. “I’m just going back to camp. I’ll…see you there.”

Tav opens his mouth then thinks better of it. Whatever he was going to ask goes unspoken. Most likely another plea to get you to stay, or to allow him to follow.

You turn and start walking through the swamp.

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid

#reborn into bg3 #reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money #astarion x reader #tav x reader #auntie ethel #fanfic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #you should really look into that other bag of yours reader

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fairykazu · 4 months

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[ 1 ] 𓇼 TWILIGHT ZONE content warnings: strong language, mommy issues word count: 2.8k previous ⋆ masterlist ⋆ next

“Raiden. Raiden Scaramouche, please report to the office.” Scaramouche raised a brow, confused. He knows that he’s a delinquent, but it doesn’t mean he pulled pranks and atrocities all the time. Besides, what’s the point of even calling him to the office? The school year is ending, finals are over, and summer is rolling in.

Childe, or what Scaramouche likes calling him, a parasite, turned to him, “’Mouchie,”

Disgusted, “Don’t you dare call me that! I know where you live.”

Scaramouche’s threats used to be more terrifying but the more you get to know him, you’ll know that they were only used to scare you off; he’s just all bark, no bite. Most people’s faces would fall immediately, running off to pick up the dignity they have left. But Childe isn’t like most people; unfortunate for Scaramouche since Childe is used to his sharp words since middle school, Childe only laughed off the threat, getting used to Scaramouche's empty filled threats. He's all bark, no bite. “So What did you do this time?”

“How the fuck am i supposed to know?” Scaramouche replied, being as confused as him. The indigo haired male rolled his eyes as his friend’s empty ones glanced to the side who was avoiding his gaze,

“Sheesh, my bad.” Childe replied, holding up his hands to defend himself.

“Raiden Scaramouche, please head to the office.'' The speaker spoke again as Childe tugged him in the direction of the office. The fluorescent, bright lights flickering above Scaramouche, he yanked off Childe’s hand off his sleeve, “whatever.”

As the bell rang for the next class, people stared at Scaramouche while he walked to the office. not because he’s the infamous guy who causes trouble just to cackle at the faces of terror, but because he’s beautiful. Scaramouche isn’t being full of himself though; the case being more evident when he saw someone raise their phone at him... with flash.

Well, some people would think that Scaramouche is full of himself for saying that, but have you seen Twitter, or hell, even, Tiktok? So many unsolicited pictures or videos of him being edited and being posted to Lana Del Rey or Chase Atlantis. The comments on those videos are like the reign of terror. Scaramouche considers those comments more terrifying or scary than whatever Scaramouche and “his” goons do during school.

Arriving at the office, he meets eyes with one of the office hags, Xianyun, who greeted him with a thin lined smile. She didn’t even look him in the eyes, just clacking away at her screen. This is why that old bitch has glasses. “Hello, Mr. Scaramouche.”

He scrunched his nose, leaning back, her words were laced in saccharin, too sweet to be sincere. Scaramouche hated her fake pleasantries especially when they’re both aware of how much they don’t like each other. Small talk and being polite for the sake of being nice annoyed him, pretending to be nice isn’t as polite as people may think. Cutting to the chase, he crossed his arms, “Why was I called? I didn't do shit this time.”

Watching the fine lines wrinkles in her face creased, she looked away from her screen. She made direct eye contact with Scaramouche. It doesn’t matter if her gaze might be too hard to handle, he lives with the CEO of the Raiden Shogun Corporations…

or known as his mother.

Now, he got her attention. she sat up straight, pinching her nose bridge. The older woman gritted her teeth, “Mr. Scaramouche, please do not curse in a school setting. as it goes against the rules; it may disturb others with sensitive ears. please go to the principal morax’s office, i’m sure you’ll be more comfortable there.”

Scaramouche smiled a little not because the older woman dissed him, but because there was no longer an uncomfortable barrier between the two, but instead something he was comfortable with, bitter and straight forward. “Whatever.” he quipped back, giving the amount of attitude the office lady gave to him.

As he walked past her desk, she mumbled under her breath, “Fucking brat.” Scaramouche pivoted on his heel, “Oh, Miss Xianyun,”

The office lady turned her chair towards his direction, despite dying her hair, she would definitely grow more gray hairs after this. “Please don’t curse in an educational setting. it may disturb people with sensitive ears.” Watching the woman’s face twist into annoyance as he chuckled quietly to himself. Serves her right!

He walked into Mr. Morax’s office; it looked the same as always. A big, stuffy office with no a/c but the only room without flickering lights and a bunch of old man decorations on the shelves and some pictures of his kids— Scaramouche squinted at the framed pictures, Xiao and Ganyu. Wow, what a great parent unlike some people. With a frown adorning his face, he greeted the principal, “Hey.” Throwing his backpack on the carpeted floors, he pulled out one of the two brown chairs in front of the older male’s desk, slouching in the chair. Mr. Morax didn’t pay any attention to Scaramouche’s attitude, which Scaramouche liked or disliked? The principal treated him like everyone else, but he wasn’t dismissive of the indigo haired male’s distracting actions. “What’s the problem?”

Mr. Morax explained the issue to him, resting his gloved hands on the desk, “Your mother had called and said that she’s pulling you out of school early due to technical issues.”

Scaramouche's face twitched, his mother? What the hell does she want? “What?”

“Yes, she said that she’ll be there in twenty-” Mr. Morax scooted his chair towards his computer which had a yellow sticky note attached to it. He peeled it from the screen, reading the rushed handwriting, he corrected himself. “— I apologize, in ten minutes, your mother will pick you up. please grab your needed essentials and go home.”

Scaramouche wanted to argue back, not wanting to face his mother and the consequences that come with it. but he glanced at Mr. Morax's eyes, knowing that even if he fights back, the old man will have his way and it would be worse than it would have been initially. “Fine.” He didn’t mean to say it so bitterly, but he did. but the real question is why did he react like that?

Was it because he viewed that man as his “father”? He wanted to laugh at himself. Don’t be stupid. He slung his backpack, his mood becoming grouchier than before. Out of the office, sitting on the golden yellow benches that had been graffitied before being painted back to its boring solid color. Despite wearing sweats, the temperature of the bench seared him as if he was salmon, but instead finding a seat in the cool shadows, he's just as stubborn as his own mother.

He stayed in the same seat.

Beep!

A Cadillac honked at Scaramouche just before he got up to curse out the car. it was his mother and most importantly, her girlfriend in the driver seat. the pink haired hag, yae miko who taunted Scaramouche that she would take his mother away from him forever. Well, to be fair, it was a joke and she always meant it jokingly, but Scaramouche was eleven who didn’t know any better. He took that joke too seriously. but of course, there’s other instances where yae pulled that pissed him off. He'd rather not get into that, otherwise, it would be a long day.

“Scaramouche, get in the damn car, we don’t have all day.” the pink haired hag hollered. she could be even louder the way she spoke, waking up the damn archons from their rest.

“Shut up, hag!” is what Scaramouche wanted to reply with. But instead, Scaramouche grumbled whatever, opening the door. He saw his youngest sister, Mikoto, the prized daughter who would get the seat of CEO in the company. If that little shit wasn’t born, he’d be the one being praised and loved. the one above the rest instead being the one among the others.

When Scaramouche sat down, buckled in his seatbelt. He took out his phone, plugging his ears with music. In his peripheral vision, his sister Mikoto whispered to her older brother, “Good afternoon, Big brother.”

Even though he wasn’t paying attention, he knew what she said. the dyed haired male recoiled from the title. He never accepted her as his little sister, why did she think she had the place to call him that? boiling it down to being all his mother and yae’s fault, they must be forcing a bond between the two of them. “Don’t call me that.”

“Ah, I'm sorry, big– Scaramouche.” his little sister flinched back, fiddling with her braids. Even though he did feel a little guilty, Scaramouche shifted to the side, looking through the window.

When Scaramouche arrived at the house, his mother took him into her office whilst yae went somewhere with mikoto. he was seated in the velvet chairs in front of her desk. Unlike the behavior he has at school, he’s more polite. Sitting in the chair, no manspread and he adjusted his collar. His mother was in front of him, writing something down. With the way his mother was talking to him, stern but firm, he thought, Maybe I am getting that CEO spot instead of Mikoto.

“Kunizukushi.” Oh!, she’s using the family name instead of “Scaramouche”, maybe he is getting that position. “As your school year is coming to an end and summer is coming up, I believe that you aren’t ready for the CEO position. Instead,” she placed a sticky post it note in front of the male. “You will go to auntie nahida’s summer house to help her out with her duties in fontaine.”

Whatever remaining pride scaramouche had crumbled before him, he no longer had a reason to keep up a façade, his mother already knows, they already know. “What do you mean I’m no longer fit for the CEO position, mother?”

When he was born, as if he was a puppet, ei shaped her son as someone who would take over the family’s business. but as he grew up, she saw that he wasn’t fit for the position, other than being empathetic towards others but he was too like her sister, who was forced to be in this position. She didn’t want that kind of responsibility on her son’s shoulders.

As Scaramouche's voice got louder, his mother kept staying calm. “Don’t you use that tone with me, Kunizukushi, I say this with all the love in my heart that you are simply too empathic to work as the sole owner.”

The tension between the two only grew worse; as the indigo haired male stood up, making his chair fall behind him. He said through gritted teeth, “I've been working for this my entire life and you’re throwing it all away because I'm too “nice”? you think that’s fucking nice? Have you seen how people perceive me in school? Have you?” if she had seen him as the infamous sixth member of the group he was a part of, the Fatui, they would call it. When were people making eye contact with him? in the hallways, in class, in the locker rooms or hell, even outside of school.Those idiotic people were in fear. in fear of the troubles that Scaramouche would wreak havoc over them.

“Just because you are seen as terrifying there, it doesn’t mean you aren’t empathetic. you aren’t fit because you are prone to your emotions. You don’t control your feelings, they control you. Kuni, you will be sent to Nahida's summer house by tomorrow, pack up.”

Scaramouche's eyes twitched, “What?” Despite his tone, he was tapping his foot on the carpeted floor.

Her voice grew more stern, holding her ground. He played with his fingers, nervous of the outcome even though he knew what was coming. “Don’t talk back to me. Return to your room and pack up, you’re leaving tomorrow. Take the note with you.”

The tension was as thick as the fog on Tsurumi Island. Just before Scaramouche scoffed at his mother, he took the note from the office.

“Whatever.”

When he left the office, making sure to slam the door behind him. Although his room wasn’t far from the office, it felt like it was dragging on. He trudged through the hallways all the way to his room, ignoring the family portraits that stared daggers into his back.

The moment he walked into his room; the weight of the tension was lifted off his shoulders. He laid on his bed followed by a sigh of relief.

What a day. What a total waste of a day.

Scaramouche wondered if his sister wasn’t born, would he be in the position? Or would it be doomed in every universe. He rolled to his side, burying his face into the

He burrowed himself into his blankets, not caring to take off his “outside schools”. Years of training to be the exact leader for the company wasted just because of some stupid reason. Scaramouche's dream ever since he was a kid was to take over. But after this talk with his mother… correction, “mother” is not even her name, Ei.

after that?

he doesn’t even know if it was really his or her dream.

[Morning]

Someone knocked on the door, “Scaramouche, get out of your room.”

“Piss off.” He mumbled, mostly out of habit. The person– probably Yae chuckled.

The sun peeked through his blinds; he groaned as he fought the struggle to slip back into his bed sheets. A pang of realization hit him when he remembered that he didn’t pack at all. God, Ei would be a pain in the ass. He burrowed out of his bed, his head peeking out to find a luggage already set and ready to go and his step-mother was leaning at the door, “Scaramouche, I packed some of your things. Your aunt has some clothes or swim shorts for you at her villa. Don’t be an ass to her and you’re lucky that your mom wanted to play nice with you.”

Yae continued, pulling the comforter off Scaramouche’s body, he shivered, yanking the blanket back and pulled it over his head. “Get up, the jet is ready for you.” She crossed her arms, “If you go, I’ll put a good word for you to Ei.”

Despite knowing it was bait to get him out of bed, Scaramouche kicked the comforter off of him and walked to his bathroom. Yae looked over his shoulder, pointing out, “Your roots look rough. Oh! There’s a white hair.” She plucked a white hair from his head, he tossed a glare at her, she only laughed.

“Are you leaving?” Scaramouche asked, on his way to his bathroom. She hummed out a reply but he waited until he heard the door closed. He stared himself in the mirror and shit, Yae was right. he does need to redo his roots, his natural black hair peeking out. There isn’t any time to retouch it, he’d do it later when he comes back from the vacation to his aunt.

Even though he is ready to go, physically. He isn’t mentally, not getting why his mother is sending him on a getaway trip. He laughed at himself, pulling his luggage into the jet. every other kid would be happy that their mom is sending them off to some place with beaches, Scaramouche just wants to ensure his spot that he was born and meant for. it’s his role. no one else’s.

Well, that is what he insists on. The jet was comfortable at least. Fluffy blankets draped on the seats, a pillow on each one and a basket of snacks on the table tied with a bow and a card. His mother decked out the private jet with things she thinks her son would like. From miniature snacks to different kinds of gifts to “make up” what she did yesterday, parental guilt. It always gets them somehow.

Scaramouche picked up a bag from the small basket, opening it as he picked up the notecard from his mother. “Kunizukushi, I apologize for my behavior yesterday. But you will understand why I sent you to your aunt’s when you’re older or hopefully, when you’re more mature.”

“‘when you’re more mature’? I’m even more mature than you old ass hag.” Scaramouche mumbled before pausing. “Nevermind.”

He opened the window’s blinds, seeing his sister leaning on Yae’s hand, she waved goodbye to him. He shut the window immediately and cracked it open a little. When Yae wasn’t looking, he waved back, he guessed that older sibling guilt is quite similar to parental ones. Leaning on his hand, he fell back to the much needed sleep.

Maybe she was right. He needed this.

taglist [ open / bold means i cannot tag you]: @practicoi @saccharine-sucks @veekoko @aruastu @jllyfsh-lvr @scaranthropy

#summer flows — vidia’s series !#genshin impact x you #astronetwrk #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fluff #genshin impact #wanderer x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader

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quillandink333 · 3 months

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The Other’s Choice • Pt. 1

Credit to @winterxisxcomingx for the beautiful banner ♡︎

SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Faced with the harsh reality of Heaven’s steadfast opposition, the angel of joy is forced to make a drastic decision with gruesome consequences, but luckily she isn’t alone for long.

WARNINGS: Abrahamic imagery (obviously), pseudocest, assault, extreme heights, hunger

Part I • Part II • Part III

An eternity seemed to have passed since Emily had taken the irreversible dive from Heaven and begun her journey through Purgatory before finally manifesting in Hell’s scarlet sky. And yet there was such a long distance left between her and the ground that she still couldn’t make out a single thing happening down below. Her stomach was achingly empty—how many days had it been? It was impossible to know without the light of the sun to let her.

Her windswept hair obscuring her vision as she fell, she reflected on the moments leading up to this. They’d done it! Now even Sera couldn’t deny the reality proven by the unrelenting efforts of the Hazbin Hotel. Yet to Emily’s fury, the old hag was still too stubborn to allow word of it to get out even among the archangels.

The newly redeemed sinner, whose name she’d learnt was Sir Pentious, had appeared suddenly in Chastity Palace, somehow becoming the first human soul in history to bypass Saint Peter and the pearly gates. While the senior seraph didn’t take well to his arrival, the younger was over the moon, wasting no time befriending him and giving him the grand tour of his new, and rightful, home above the clouds. The conversations she’d shared with him were not only groundbreaking but deeply upsetting. The upsetting part, however, wasn’t the story of his noble sacrifice nor was it Adam’s brutal and shameless acts of fascism, but the fact that she couldn’t share any of it with the rest of Heaven.

Faced with this, she’d done the only other thing she could have. If there was no way for her to serve the sinners’ worthy cause in Heaven, she would simply have to leave. And so she would, but first, she’d penned a note to her elder.

Word Count: 0.8k

“I hereby vow never to return until the right changes have been made. This is not my choice, it is my duty. Thank you for protecting me, Sera. Goodbye.”

She’d never been so cold and blunt to anyone in all her aeons of life; it had destroyed her to write it, but soon regret would serve no purpose to her anymore. With a deep breath, she steadied herself and stepped with resolve toward the edge of the rainbow bridge. She closed her eyes.

Out of nowhere, all the world came to a screeching halt, the jarring loss of momentum causing her heart to nearly leap out her throat.

“I got ya.’”

A few seconds earlier, Lucifer had looked up through the glass walls of his new suite at the hotel just in time to see what could only be likened to a falling star.

Without thinking, he’d bolted into action, racing to catch the little one right as she’d started to descend past the city skyline. She could’ve been shish-kebabbed by the spire of a skyscraper if he’d taken any longer to spot her.

His heart was pounding after his miles-long sprint through the air. “You alright?”

Emily ogled up at her saviour with wide eyes, failing to realise he’d asked her a question for a good several seconds. “Y-Yes. Uh…thank you.” He didn’t look much like a demon, dressed in white from top to bottom with strawberry blond hair and a warm red gaze. If she didn’t know better, she would think this gleaming, six-winged stranger was a seraph like herself.

“You’ve fallen,” he inferred with frantic eyes and a heavy heart. “What happened?”

But her attention was already fixated elsewhere. As the angel of joy, she possessed a divine gift that let her feel the emotions of others as if they were her own. Down below, there were people on the streets, and every last one of them was miserable. It was so much worse than she could’ve imagined. There truly wasn’t an ounce of joy to be found here. She watched as one of the wretched souls was violently defiled by another before her eyes, their cries of terror ringing in her ears clear as day. The latter’s hand clenched around the former’s neck, and suddenly she couldn’t get a breath in, a scream trapped in her throat as she could do nothing but watch. She felt sick.

Lucifer sensed her rising panic and held her closer. “Hey, look at me, you’re okay,” he urged, cradling the poor, lost princess in one arm while cupping her colourless face in his free hand. She met his gaze, her own filled with the all-consuming fear she’d had the privilege of never knowing until now. She looked like a deer in the headlights, her expression like an arrow straight to his once broken and unfeeling heart. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside where it’s safe.”

Her frail arms clung to him with a vicelike grip as she nodded and tearfully hid her face in his shoulder. At once, he set his sights on Pride Castle and took off soaring.

#my writing #applewings #pride and joy #prideandjoy #pride & joy #pride&joy #lucily #lucifer x emily #emily x lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #emily the seraph #emily the seraphim #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel #quillcifer 🍎🪶

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

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Goo Kim x Reader: Cookies (feat Gun)

Goo and Gun at the bakery for you

Goo loves you, y'know.

It has sorta become a tradition that when one of you is ill, whatever the ill person want, the ill person gets.

And you're there on your deathbed, head full of cold, with a craving for cookies. Not just any cookies, the ones from that extra special fancy little bakery you just love.

So here Goo waits.

With Gun impatiently by his side, wishing death upon Goo and death upon you because at least he would never be dragged into these mundane bullshit situations again. Why the fuck is he here when there's minors to cripple and hospitalise? Seriously, jesus fucking christ-

"Next!"

Disregarding Gun's grumbles, Goo shuffles forward and rocks excitedly back and forth.

Just one more person to serve, and then it's his turn! Only, Goo checks his watch, 5 minutes until close and there are loads left! Well, not loads loads, but there's more than a dozen. Surely enough for you and for the customer in front-

"I'll take the whole lot, please!"

What the FUCK!

"HEY!" Goo lunges just short of the aforementioned customer, "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

After paying and receiving her bag of goodies, the little granny with kind eyes amplified by round glasses, smiles up sweetly at Goo.

"I'm so sorry young man. I'm seeing my family today and want to share these with my children and grandchildren. I absolutely love this place and have been raving about it. It's been so long since I've seen them so I thought I would bring a treat. Ever since my husband died-"

Goo stands there agape, seeing red as she rambles on. Who the fuck cares, you just bought all the fucking cookies.

Respect your elders? He swears he will sock that old bitch in the mouth. He hopes she and the rest of her whole family chokes on those delicious cookie crumbs!

"YOU OLD HAG-"

Gun immediately clamps a hand around Goo's idiot mouth and holds him back.

With Goo struggling in his arms, he gives the friendly granny a polite nod as she waddles away with her bag full of baked goods; blissfully ignorant and not knowing how close she was to getting slapped by an irate blonde.

Outside the bakery, the sun is shining, there's a gentle autumn breeze, and the evening is beautiful.

Goo doesn't feel the sun. He doesn't feel the breeze.

The sun is shit and the breeze is shit and the evening is shit. He lives in darkness now, he doesn't deserve your love, he can never be happy again.

Dejectedly cradling his bag of crap, he wonders how he could go home to face you, his beloved. He bought what he could, some deliciously sweet and overpriced monstrosities, but it's not a cookie.

Really, Goo should thank his lucky stars that the main cause of grief in his life are goddamn fucking cookies. But.

It's still not a cookie. It's not what you asked for.

What if your sniffly nose and sore throat took a turn and you're dying? What if you're actually dead right now and the last thing you wanted was a cookie and he couldn't do that for you?

"Hey," Gun elbows him, snapping him out of his distress, "Look."

Literally standing a few metres away appears to be a father and daughter. He's wiping crumbs from her mouth, and- what's that in her hands?! Goo's eyes hone in on her little bag of cookies like a hawk.

"KID!!" he screeches, jumping over and crouching down to her height as she stares at this funny, weird man.

"How many cookies you got left?"

She peers into her bag, takes her time counting, then holds up four fingers, "Four!"

"How about I trade you this," Goo opens his bag of baked goods, "For your cookies?"

The little girl shakes her head, pigtails following the movement.

"Kid, don't you know these are more expensive." Another shake, "AND SEE! Icing! Sprinkles! Don't you kids love icing and sprinkles?"

The little girl shakes her head once more and Goo's eyes bug out.

For fuck's sake. Gun pinches the bridge of his nose, considering punting the kid or Goo, whoever is closest.

Whatever.

Taking a deep breath and ignoring Goo, who is on the verge of tears and a mental breakdown, Gun opts for the logical choice and approaches the father instead.

"This guy," Gun points at Goo, now wallowing pathetically on the ground, "Will give you 100,000 won for those cookies."

Seriously?! Just as Dad is about to say fuck yes, he takes a step back and eyes them up. Their impeccably tailored designer suits, their excrutiatingly expensive watches, their general aura of 'fuck you' money-

"500,000."

Gun shrugs, it's not his cash, "Deal."

Heh, suckers. Dad squats down to his daughter. With the experience of being on the wrong end of a screaming tantrum one too many times, he promises toys and TV time and whatever the hell she wants, in exchange for the bag of cookies.

Obediently, and with a peppy smile, she hands them over to him.

Dad holds the bag out in one hand to Gun, and pointedly, his other cash-less palm.

Gun nudges Goo, currently rolling around forlornly on the floor, with his foot, "Pony up, you fucking moron."

Holy shit, Goo could kiss Gun right now. Goo springs up in joy.

Finally! These motherfucking cookies!

Is that the warmth of the sun he can feel? The refreshing breeze? And isn't this evening magical-

Hold the fuck on. Unwelcome clarity slams into him. Five hundred fucking thousand won?!

With tears in his eyes, Goo digs out his wallet and forks over the cash.

#ok srsly last one today. sorry for all the posts #this one is #i dont even know #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #goo kim x reader #goo kim #kim joongoo x reader #kim joongoo #gun park #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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skulllaria · 1 year

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As one awaits becomes two

#snow covered #snowy bridge #snow #snow fall #snow walk #tumblr 2023 #tumblr #winter wonderland #winter #old hag #old hag bridge

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every-orochimaru · 1 year

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#someone get this old hag a cane #naruto #ch 291 #orochimaru #tenchi bridge reconnaissance mission #everyorochimaru

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caesarinsalata · 7 months

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So, this is gonna be a bit of a read, but I thought of a little AU idea and I kind of wrote a mock Prologue for it???

(yes I drew little doodles for it. End me lol)

Since it's set back in time when Xerxes was still a bustling empire, I figured Amestris would be in the 15th century of sorts. (Yes I know Amestris wasn't even made yet, but in this Medieval/Xerxes AU it is!)

Cause I looked into it and figured out Xerxes fell around 1480 or so?? So we're going with medieval Amestris.

It starts out with the trio being young (like 6 and 5 years of age) just so you have an idea.

So if y'all wouldn't mind taking a moment to read this little (3000?) Word excerpt I created out of my ass today, that would be awesome! Not promising it's in character or good 🤣👌🏽

TITLE: Achaemenid

PROLOGUE

Xerxes, a stand alone empire betwixt Xing and Amestris. No one dared challenge or overthrow this stretch of desert as a result of its King. He was ruthless and heartless at times. Yet Communicable and selfless at others. Alongside his majesty stilling the hearts of his enemies, no one particularly wanted such a vast wasteland. Nor could they grasp why an empire rose within the center of it.

The air surrounding Xerxes, upon approaching, was different somehow. No one could place it. All who came to the border of Xerxian territory felt as though something had passed through them or vice versa. The conspicuous distinction in the clearity of the desert sky on the other side of this “border” felt unnerving yet reassuring. At least the air looked sand free the closer the caravan trudged to their destination. The only effective means of travel in the desert was by camel back. Any other means was surely suicide.

“Are thee thirsty?”

The traveling company consisted of four camels, but five riders. Three were knights, bequeathed the honour of smuggling the remaining Rockbell family line from further extinction. They had been labeled traitors in their home country, Amestris. Despite being but a lowly old hag and orphaned child, the Queen wanted blood for crimes they had not committed. Someone on the inside, took action and fabricated the plan to get them to safety before the Queen decreed their sentence.

“Drink, before thy self run dry.”

The knight’s clothed arm held steady in front of Pinako Rockbell. She huffed a thank you, her aggravation more towards the scorching heat than him. After taking a drink herself, she gave the rest to Winry Rockbell, who sat in her lap.

“Drink child.”

Winry took the flask in her tiny hands, touching it to her lips and tilted it back. Finishing with a gasp of air, she felt much better. But a refreshing drink of water did nothing to wash away the fact that her parents were dead and are perceived to be traitors. She knew, without a doubt, that they were most certainly not. She wanted to cry again, but recalled granny telling her to conserve her fluids. This journey had been longer than she anticipated.

Finally coming across life of some kind, the caravan ventured across a bridge stretching over an irrigation system that seemed to go for miles in opposite directions. There were people actively digging the system down below. Hearing hooves shuffle across the stone, a handful of them turned to look up.

Winry ducked her head to escape their gaze, but soon was in awe of their odd features. Each and every one of them had gold hair that varied in shades. But what really caught her attention were the array of amber gold eyes staring her way. They varied in intensity as well, but each was piercing in their own right. She couldn't look away. After staring a moment, the people began to wave an arm in greeting in unison, smiles on their faces. They were oddly friendly to strangers. The people down below disappeared over the hump of the bridge once they crossed it and made it back to land, moreso sand.

The knight's accompanying them steered their herd towards a stable like building meant for housing the camels of travelers for their later departure. Except, they weren't leaving anytime soon, Winry thought. The knight's would leave them behind to burn under the hot sun. Although, now that they were in town, the sun didn't seem that bad anymore, but it still weighed on them.

Given Granny’s and Winry's size, the knights had to help them down off of the towering camels safely. Granny didn't like a grown man touching her, but she figured it would be best not to complain. They did all this for them. She took Winry's hand since she didn't feel safe in a foreign land whatsoever.

“Stay by my side, Winry.”

Winry noded and hid behind her as they walked down the center of the shopping district. A perfect place to attract travelers for money. Everyone they passed seemed to be happy to see them or at least friendly. Some would talk to each other and watch them pass. Granny didn't like being on display like this, she squeezed Winry's hand.

It felt like ages, but they finally walked to the center of the empire and scaled the thousands of stairs it took to get to the throne room. Winry wanted to slap this King or whatever. No one would want to come here and climb a mountain of stairs just for a King.

Once they basked in the vast throne room, the knights turned to Granny.

“Ma’am, the lass need not pay the King audience. Only thee must accompany us.” The knight speaking bowed, but Granny didn't like this idea.

“I'm not leaving her alone. She comes with me.”

“Ma’am…the King wouldn't-”

He was cut off by a tall young man, sporting a blonde beard and hair pulled back in a ponytail. “If I may?”

Pinako looked over and up to glare at whoever else wanted to take Winry from her. “Who are you? I'm not leaving her.”

The man put up his hands in surrender. He didn't take being yelled at very well. “I mean no harm, ma’am. Id like to suggest taking your…..granddaughter for the time being. I have two boys of my own she could distract herself with. I'm sure your conversation with the King will be short and sweet.”

“Like hell you think im-”

“Please please. I promise no harm will come to her. The King doesn't like children in his throne room. She would just upset him. Me on the other hand, I love them. She'll be safe with me.” He gave a pause and looked Pinako in the eyes, putting his hands together in a prayer form. “I promise.”

Pinako didn't care how many times he repeated himself, she didn't like this at all. Leaving her only granddaughter with a random stranger did not sit well with her.

The knight cut in this time. “Make haste, the King doesnt take nicely to waiting.”

“Alright alright. Fine. Get off my back will ya!” Pinako grumbled, turning to Winry. She grabbed both of Winry's hands this time and squeezed. “Winry. I don't want to do this, but you're going to be spending some time with that man there. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

Winry nods. “Okay, Granny.” She looked to the blonde man smiling down at her. He wasn't unnerving or creepy. He looked really sweet and nice. He held his hand out and looked from Winry to Pinako.

“I will take good care of her for you. She'll have fun with my boys, I know it. Come come.”

Winry slowly took his hand and let go of Pinako’s. Neither looking like they wanted to go anywhere. Winry watched Granny go through the big double doors and disappear. She'd be lying if she wasn't worried now.

“Oh where are my manners,” the man smiled down at her while walking her down a corridor. “My name is Von Hohenhiem. What’s-”

“Winry.”

Her sudden response gave him pause, but Hohenhiem smiled anyway. “I know this is stressful and scary, but I promise you'll be just fine. There's nothing to fear now. Through here.”

He guided her through an archway, pushing aside fabric in the way to reveal what looked to be a library with an open floor in the center.

“Boys! We have company.”

No response. He smiles nervously down at Winry. Clearing his throat he tried again.

“Edward! Alphonse!”

He was complimented by a grumble and shuffling of books falling over.

“I'm coming! I'm coming! I was just getting to a good part!”

A moment later, a boy appeared from around a bookshelf, not looking happy to be disturbed. He wore robes like his father with red trim. His hair short in the back, but long in the front, most of it covering the sides of his face. He blinked, seeming disturbed by Winry, obviously not expecting someone else. Turning to look back he sighed.

“Come on Al.”

Another boy poked his head out, hiding behind his brother. Much more shy than the first one. He also wore a robe like his brother, but with blue trim.

As they stepped closer to her, Winry got a closer look at their golden features. She could make out more detail compared to the people under the bridge. These two boys sported the most brilliant golden eyes out of all the eyes she's seen on the way in here. She couldn't help but stare.

“Winry. These are my boys. The one with the sour expression is Edward. The one hiding is Alphonse. Now, I have some work to do for the King. Play nice boys. Don't make her cry.” Hohenhiem looks from Al to Ed. “Edward.”

The boy named Edward had obviously taken offense to this.

“Wha- I haven't done anything yet!” Crossing his arms he looks at Winry, but it looks more like a glare.

“Be nice, I'll let you know when your granny is ready for you, Winry dear.”

Winry nods, watching him leave as the fabric falls back in the doorway, she turns back to Ed and Al.

Collectively, they all stare at each other. Winry couldn't help but notice Al still hiding behind his brother.

“Umm….” Winry started, but Ed cut her off.

“Sooo, Winry huh? What do you wanna do then? All we have are books and some toys. Not much though. We're just slaves after all…” Ed huffs, lowering his arms and resting them on his hips.

“Slaves?” Winry looked worried.

“Yeah, slaves.” He tilted it head at her, his golden hair falling in his face a bit. “Don't you have those where you're from?”

“But you all look the same…”

Edward cocked an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with it? Only the alchemists live well here.” He shrugged but put on a proud smile and pointed at himself with his thumb, puffing his chest out. “Soon we'll be skilled alchemists and surpass those losers!”

Al spoke up for the first time from behind Ed, pushing down on his left shoulder. “Brother-” He hissed at him. “Don't say that out loud, they might hear you….”

“Whatever, Al, it won't matter when we're out of here!” Ed absolutely beamed at his brother.

“Al…chemists?” Winry blinked, completely dumbfounded. “What in the world is that?”

Ed and Al turned their heads and looked at her in unison. Almost in sync. “You don't know what Alchemy is?” They even spoke in unison too.

Winry shook her head, her hair swishing in her face.

Ed looked at Al and Al looked at Ed. They smiled and looked back to Winry. They bursted with energy at her and grabbed both her hands, she almost ran out of the room.

“Come on!”

“We’ll show you!”

Yanking her into the room’s center, there was a carpet lain out for play. They let go of her and ran in random directions, searching through books and scrolls. Winry opted to stand on the very edge of the carpet, deciding to keep her distance. Both boys looked like they wanted to show her a new strange rock they found in the forest or something of the like.

Edward emerged first carrying a scroll and chalk sticks. Alphonse had bottles and jars of unknown substances. Winry was more curious now. If they were this interested in something like this, whatever it was, it must be cool.

Ed rolled up the carpet aggressively and chucked it aside. Holding open a scroll, he read off of it and began drawing lines on the stone floor. Winry was confused now. Was this Alchemy? Drawing on the floors in chalk?

As Ed finished, it was clear to Winry that it was a giant circle with triangles and writing she couldn't understand.

“What-?”

Edward tisked. “Not done yet.”

Winry shut her mouth.

Al gave him a few jars of….stuff and they both opened them and poured out the contents in the center.

“Now the material.”

“Ready?”

They got down to their knees and smiled at each other at opposite sides of the circle.

“Ready.”

A few moments went by, nothing. Winey was about to say something again when the chalk started to glow. She couldnt believe her eyes, her mouth fell open. What felt like wind was circling around the outer circle. Lights and sparks erupted from the center and triangles. The light was everywhere. The boys didn't seem bothered by this at all, they were smiling down at the pile of material they offered to the center and waited.

As the light show continued, the pile started moving. Winry's eyes grew wider. It started taking the shape of a….doll head.

That's when it got terrifying.

The doll head wiggled it's way out of the pile along with a body attached. As it formed the facial features, it looks like something out of a nightmare.

Winry started to whine. But the boys didn't stop until they heard her wail.

They whipped their heads around with worry plastered on their faces. Winry was slouched on the ground crying and rubbing her eyes. Trying to get rid of the sight that bore into her eyes. She heard their footsteps and felt their hands on her arms. Trying to get her to stop crying.

“Winry! Winry! It's okay!” Alphonse was pleading with her, holding her forearm and touching her shoulder. Edward didn't know what to do. He's only ever consoled a crying Al, but that's different than a girl crying. He just hovered and looked ashamed and lost.

When the boys got her to a hiccup, she finally took her head out of her hands and looked at them in front of her. The worry was very real on their faces. They bowed their heads and slumped.

“We're sorry…”

“We didn't know it would scare you…”

Winry hiccupped, but looked over Ed's shoulder to see a fully formed, not scary, doll sitting at the center of the circle. She looked back to sets of golden eyes looking at her. One of them looked like they were about to cry too. She smiled a little. They were only trying to show her something and make her happy.

She was about to ask if she could have the doll when Hohenhiem whipped the fabric at the doorway open.

“I heard crying! Edward, what did you do??”

The remorse on Ed's face was gone in a flash. He jumped up and huffed, stomping his feet.

“I didn't do nothing!”

Hohenhiem scanned the tosseled rug and the obvious circle drawn on the floor. He slouched and sighed, pinching his nose.

“Did you scare her with Alchemy?”

Ed crossed his arms and turned away, puffing out his cheek. “No….”

Al stood up and gripped his robes. “Yes…” Ed whipped around and opened his arms at Al in a ‘are you serious?’ manner. Sour for being ratted on.

Hohenhiem sighed again. “I'm sorry Winry. I didn't think these two were going to immediately give you nightmares as soon as I left them alone with you. I should've known…”

Ed huffed again. “What's that supposed to mean??”

Winry’s eyes whipped from one to another. Amazed by the life in the room. Silently getting up while the other two argued, she tentatively picked up the doll and inspected it. Al quietly tapped her shoulder and smiled when she looked over.

“You can have that if you want it. It won't fall apart. It's really a real doll.” He smiled soft and sweet. “We made it just for you.”

She didn't know what would come of her life here in Xerxes now that she was stuck here for the foreseeable future, but with these two around, she knows it'll be interesting at least.

“Thanks, Al.”

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sitp-recs · 11 months

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Hi liv! I hope you’re having a great Friday! Do you have any recs for a “rainy romance” like something that may feature a lot of rain but is just cozy in essence. Think Little Compton Street maybe? Something that maybe one could read while listening to piano and rain sounds? Thanks for allllll that you do!!!!!

Hi anon, happy weekend! Oh I love this ask, as you know LCS is one of my all-time favorite fics and I really love the idea of a rainy, cozy love story to lose myself in. This got long enough so I’m also linking HP Drizzle Fest for more recs. I hope you enjoy, some fics are a bit melancholy but I still think they’re a great fit:

The Reason to Start Again by @phdmama (T, 2k)

The rain that’s been pouring down all day has finally tapered off, leaving the streets wet and a heavy mist hanging in the air. It’s warm and cosy inside the pub, and it’s been 362 days since Draco packed his bags and walked away.

Sky Full of Song by @writcraft (T, 2k)

Draco turns up at Harry's birthday party unexpectedly and Harry takes a leap of faith.

Petrichor by @tsauergrass (G, 2k)

After the war, Draco found himself uncontrollably drawn to the rain.

waltzing lights by @piarelei (T, 4k)

The rain is cold, the boat shaky and all that Draco can find comfort in is the warmth of Potter's presence. Or, Draco is a miserable sod and decides to take action.

Rainfall by Saras_Girl (T, 4k)

So what if Draco has a rain kink? Everyone likes something weird.

Twenty Minutes Till Free Fall by BelladonnaLee (T, 5k)

A night of rain. A bare-boned safe house. A clandestine meeting between a spy and his case officer. Being with Harry is like falling through the air—and Draco isn't sure he wants to stop.

Rain by Omi_Ohmy (NR, 5k)

Luna is getting married, and old friends meet up. It's too hot, and everything's changing for everyone except for Harry, who is still mooning after Draco.

A Little Understanding by disapparater (G, 6k)

Everybody needs good neighbours. During a storm, Harry turns to his newest neighbour for help.

Harmony (Left-Handed Melody Remix) by mindabbles (M, 6k)

He is the last person Draco was expecting, but then again, this is not a place Draco ever expected to be.

Howl by @tackytigerfic (M, 9k)

After an encounter with a vicious werewolf, Draco Malfoy wakes in a field hospital with a mangled shoulder, a furry little problem, and an inconvenient crush on Harry Potter. Potter, meanwhile, is still trying to save the world, only this time he wants Draco right there with him while he does it.

Impervius by ravenclawsquill (E, 11k)

Harry and Draco are working together on a case in the beautiful English Lake District. Or, it would be beautiful if only it would stop raining. Fortunately, Harry has an umbrella. Unfortunately, it's pink and frilly, and Draco would rather die than share it with him.

Voices From The Fog by @noeeon (E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Exiled by A_factorygirl_69 (E, 16k)

Draco is declared persona non grata by the Ministry after the War. Harry has been tasked with keeping an eye on him, ensuring he stays out of England.

Bound To You by agentmoppet (E, 21k)

Hag magic is capricious and unruly, and Harry and Draco are bound to stay by each other’s side until they can solve the riddle. In between long car trips, misty rain, and midnight star charts, they begin to understand each other.

Thunder by keyflight790 (E, 21k)

The storm will disappear; the rain will subside; but what's left in its wake will last forever. A story of love and loss, redemption and thunder.

The Isle of Discussion by @shealwaysreads (E, 22k)

Harry and Draco arrive at the shores of Loch Leven to record the magical history of the land. They’re friends now, but up there in the Highlands, amidst the trees and sky and that wild expanse of water their own past is more present than ever; a gap they still can’t bridge. Magic illuminates the truth, but it is Harry and Draco who have to speak it. Happily, it turns out that honesty is, in fact, the best policy.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win.

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others.

To Vanish Into Something Better by @m0srael (E, 35k)

Harry Potter thought he could outrun the burden of infamy by isolating himself in the Muggle world. Draco Malfoy hasn’t been seen or heard from since his trial. Will a top-secret Ministry project, a beautiful garden, and a little heat carry them both home?

The July Tree by @oknowkiss (E, 51k)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

Nightcall by Femme and noeon (E, 116k)

A hideously mauled corpse is found sprawled across the paving stones of Brick Lane in the East End of London. Inspector Harry Potter--widely believed to be the lead candidate for next Deputy Head Auror--is called in to investigate a possible magical crime. To make matters worse, his occasional lover and former school-nemesis, Viscount Draco Malfoy, now billing himself as a consulting criminologist, shows up at the crime scene to aid in the investigation of the suspicious death.

Taking Chances by @gracerene (E, 135k)

After the war, Draco disappeared and started over in America, vowing never to return to Great Britain and the fraught past he left behind. Unfortunately, when his mates convince him to sign up for an exchange programme for the last year of their Auror Training, Draco learns that he doesn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Artwork:

in my solitude comes our rain by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

Rain by @istehlurvz

Rain of Fate by @lilbeanz

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #rainy romance ☔️

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adoremexxs · 11 months

Text

Zohakuten’s blessing

I would recommend listening to Hatachi No Koi - Lamp while reading this! The vibes just fit the story imo!

no warnings!

Zohakuten was spending the day at Rui’s place. They were actually just going to the city but he told his brothers they were going to stay at Rui’s place.

He needed to escape from this house. He had enough of Sekido’s yelling, Aizetsu’s sobbing, Karaku and Urogi’s carelessness. He couldn’t stand it so he went to escape with Rui.

Zohakuten could finally drive. Rui’s father, Muzan, bought him a car despite all of his attempts of saying no.

Muzan just really likes Zohakuten.

Zohakuten left after saying goodbye to Sekido who was glaring at him. Sekido always seems to know when Zohakuten was going to do something bad.

He just swung his car keys around his finger and hurried out of there.

His car was nice, he loved it. Zohakuten climbed into the driver’s seat, pulling down the mirror ot examine himself. A bandaid was on the bridge of his nose and a patch on his face.

Of course, Zohakuten got into a fight. It was with that stupid Genya kid. He pisses him off so much and is annoying.

He wore a wifebeater underneath his letterman jacket. His jacket was black and has white stripes on his collar and on his arms. The back of his jacket said “Zohakuten” in purple with a dragon on the back. He designed that jacket himself. His pants were simple sweats and his shoes were nike blazers.

His shoes had little spots of blood on them from the fight that happened earlier this week. He didn’t bother cleaning them.

Zohakuten went to close the mirror but he paused, looking at the polaroid photo he had. It was of him and Rui at the skating rink.

It was a shameful photo for Zohakuten because he was clinging onto Rui. He had no idea how to skate and Rui was laughing at him! But to see Rui smile and laugh made his heart swell. He likes when his best friend is happy.

Now he couldn’t wait to hang out with him even more.

Rui stepped out of his house and started walking to Zohakuten’s car.

Zohakuten couldn’t help but examine his outfit to see if they were somehow accidentally matching like they usually end up doing.

Rui was wearing black pants and nike blazers but his shirt was a white sweater with a cat on it. Zohakuten loves his best friend. He is the only one who has shown him such kindness even though he was so rude to him during their first meeting.

Zohakuten hopes that they would meet in another lifetime. He wants Rui to be his best friend in every single life that he lives.

He hopped in, a small smile on his face. “Hey, Zoha.”

“…Hey, Rui.”

“Did you hear that Obanai and Mitsuri broke up?”

“Good! Obanai was so fucking annoying!”

“Zoha!”

They were finally in the city. Zohakuten had parked in some random parking lot. They would just be walking around really.

They walked around a bunch, going to stands to view the items.

“Look, Zohakuten. It’s you and me as bunnies.” Rui pointed at a black bunny plushie and a white bunny plushie.

Zohakuten thought it was funny how different they were but yet so alike. Zohakuten always admired Rui. He was kind, gentle but yet weak and fragile. He, on the other hand, was harsh and mean and a lot stronger than Rui physically and mentally.

“Do you want it, Rui?”

“No, it’s okay, Zo. I just thought they were cute.”

“…I’ll buy them.”

Rui didn’t have much of a choice because Zohakuten bought them. He had said, “if not for you, then for me.” So now Rui hung onto the white bunny plushie for dear life.

Rui thought it was funny how everyone thought Zohakuten was scary and mean and weird. He knew that his best friend had been born sick with a strange unknown illness with purple vein-like cracks under his eyes, he just thought it made Zohakuten look even more beautiful.

His best friend is the kindest person in the world.

“Oh my God! Move out of the goddamn way, you old hag!”

Maybe not the nicest…

Zohakuten was annoyed about that crowds. It made him extremely anxious and set him into fight mode.

Rui just looked up at him, hugging his bunny plushie close to him still.

“Rui, these people are pissing me off!” You can practically see the steam coming out of Zohakuten’s ears.

Rui didn’t say anything but just grabbed the sleeve of Zohakuten’s jacket, leading him away from the crowds.

They stopped by a nearby lake and Rui plopped himself down on a bench.

“Sit down, Zo. Relax.”

Zohakuten frowned for a moment before taking his seat next to Rui. He sighed out in relief, finally feeling like he was able to breath. He still had his bunny plushie in his arms and he just squeezed it closer.

The cherry blossoms trees around them were beautiful. Rui loved cherry blossom trees. No wonder why he dragged Zoha over here.

Zohakuten glanced at Rui, his face was flushed with excitement from the trees. He almost scoffed when a petal fell in Rui’s hair.

“What?” Rui looked over at him with a raised brow. He was caught off guard when Zohakuten brushed the petal from his hair.

“You got petals in your hair, idiot.”

“Must you call me that?”

“…Yes.”

Rui just rolled his eyes playfully at him, enjoying the spring air and how quiet it was where they were.

The silence wasn’t long though.

“Did you enjoy today?” Zohakuten asks, a tremble on his throat. He wanted Rui to have fun and not miss out on anything in life. He was scared of somehow disappointing him.

“Hm? Of course I did, Zoha. It was fun plus now we have matching bunny plushies.” He held up his white bunny plush to Zohakuten, a smile on his lips which seemed to make Zohakuten relax.

“…You know you’re my best friend, right?”

“Zo, I’m your only friend.”

“Tch! Whatever! I was going to be nice to you but you wanna be a brat!”

“I was joking!”

“So was I.” Zohakuten chuckled a bit, turning his head to smile at Rui.

“Thanks for coming with me, Rui. I really needed this.”

Rui stared at him with wide eyes, the smile on Zohakuten’s face had him frozen. He just blinks before embracing Zohakuten tightly.

“Of course, Zohakuten. Anything for you.”

For once, Zohakuten felt happy as he wrapped his arms around Rui. He felt pure happiness.

With Rui, he felt safe.

Rui was his escape from his terrible life.

Rui was Zohakuten’s blessing.

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